


A Trip Of Two Lifetimes (Or How Rose Tyler Learned To Relax And Love Chickens...)

by yumimum



Series: I Take The Words 'Verse [7]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adult Content, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Future, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Het, Het and Slash, Multi, OT3, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 19:53:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yumimum/pseuds/yumimum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Maybe you’re not ready to admit it—and don’t give me that look—Rassilon knows it took me long enough to finally say the words… but I remember how it felt to be you. You don’t think you deserve her, but you’re the one who fell for her. Me? I was born loving her. I’ll die loving her. And you know what? She’s worth it. She’s worth—”</p>
<p>“—everything.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“A day off!” the Doctor declared, beaming his million watt smile as he bounded around the centre console, flipping outwardly random switches with practised ease. “No danger. No running—”

“No invasions?”

“Not even a _fake_ one,” he replied, snatching up the rubber mallet for a little of what he liked to call ‘percussive encouragement’. “There’ll be no mad aliens on this trip, Rose Tyler… _Well_ ,” he paused, sending her a cheeky wink, “not counting myself of course. Today, we are having a much-deserved break. A breather. A bit of the old R an’ R. And that means no wandering off, no jail cells and absolutely. No. _Trouble._ ” He reached out and hit the final button for the dematerialisation process. “Nothing but sun, sea, sand... and _Barcelona!”_

Rose grinned as she skipped up beside him. “Dogs with no noses,” she said, nudging his shoulder playfully. “It’s a step up from _Giant Space Slugs._ ”

“You just _had_ to ask for salt on your food, didn’t you?”

“And _how_ was I supposed to know that was a criminal offence?” she demanded, hands on hips and looking scarily reminiscent of her slap-happy mother. “Hardly worth throwing us in prison over, was it?”

“Ruined a perfectly good date, that.”

“Tell me about it.” Rose brushed some centuries old TARDIS lint from the Doctor’s lapel. “You’ve been promising me some decent chips for _weeks_.”

The Doctor sighed. “Just because Earth has the monopoly on potatoes, does _not_ mean Raxfallion tuber roots can’t be judged on their own merit. I mean really, Rose. Where would we be if you turned your nose up at every meal I bought for you?”

His companion merely snorted.

“What?”

“You? Buy a meal?”

“Oi! I have money! I even have a wallet to put it in.”

“Uh-huh.” Rose smiled up at him. “And that wallet is currently gathering dust in the library. Same place it’s been for months. _Years_ , for all I know.”

Feeling flustered, the Doctor raised his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Consequences!” he exclaimed suddenly, his eyes taking on a triumphant gleam. “Time Lines, Rose Tyler. Cause and effect. One dropped credit note here, one lost Preslonian dollar there, and life as you know it could cease to exist. Honestly! Put yourself in my shoes. Would you want to jeopardise the entire Rock ‘n’ roll movement, just because you got a hankering for some chips in the 1950’s?”

Rose baulked. “Preslonian?”

“Yep.”

“As in…”

“Oh, yes.”

“ _Elvis_ was an alien?” Rose stared, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Nope. Who d’ya think taught him to dance? Best moves in the Universe, right here.” The Doctor demonstrated with a little hip shimmy, and believing this battle to be over, flashed his most charming smile. “I’m just being practical.”

“ _Right_ …” Rose rolled her eyes. “Well it’s a good thing we have the psychic paper, you cheapskate. We’d probably _starve_ to death if it were up to you.”

"Oh, please..." The Doctor leaned back against the console, folding his arms as a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. “Firstly, the TARDIS would never let us starve. She likes you too much. Secondly, I won you that banana ice-cream on Thallis-5 the other day—”

“—and _ate_ most of it yourself if I recall…”

“And thirdly,” the Doctor continued, undaunted by her teasing, “you should have known about the Limaxian Saline Statute, because I warned you about it on the way to the restaurant…” He trailed off, remembering the way Rose’s red silk dress had hugged each and every one of her curves that moonlit night, driving him halfway to distraction as she’d sashayed beside him. “Ah.” He coughed self-consciously into his hand. “ _Meant_ to… should’ve said _meant_ to just then.”

Rose giggled, and the Doctor’s face broke into a matching grin. “So,” she said, tongue darting out to moisten her lips. “… sun?”

“Sand.”

“Sea.” Inhaling deeply, Rose savoured the spicy scent of the Doctor’s aftershave. She moved closer, each exhalation teasing the sensitive column of his neck. “Skin?”

“ _Scandalous._ ”

“Quite right too.”

Beaming, she dropped a barely there kiss to his cheek and rushed off to change, leaving one stunned and highly aroused Time Lord trailing in her wake.

 

 

Fifty minutes—and much huffing about dawdling companions later—Rose sauntered back into the console room wearing a floaty yellow sundress, the matching sunglasses perched precariously atop her head. Her nails were painted a pretty shade of pink, and clutched in her hand was a trashy novel she’d picked up on Coralus-Prime. The Doctor—whose only concession had been to forego his thick woollen coat—pocketed her meagre possessions, then proceeded to throw open the TARDIS doors in an unparalleled fit of enthusiasm.

It wasn’t so much the drab brickwork, or distinct lack of all things _beachy_ that clued Rose in to his navigational error, but more so the startling flashbacks she suddenly experienced to the Battersea Park Petting Zoo. She’d never quite gotten over the humiliation of being chased by that cockerel, and so, whilst her designated driver expounded on the history of the native Pullusians—a species whose skin and facial features bore a jarring resemblance to that of an overgrown chicken—Rose tried not to stare suspiciously at the somewhat humanoid poultry haggling and bargaining in the busy marketplace before them.

Still, no Tyler female was about to turn down an impromptu shopping spree, and before long she’d immersed herself in the bright colours and exotic—if somewhat _barnyard_ —aromas of this new and exciting planet. Everywhere she turned fine silks and polished mirrors adorned the tents of the vendors keen to tout their wares, and the Doctor indulged her every whim as they whiled away the hours, perusing various trinkets and picking through delicate pieces of machinery—or, as her Time Lord happily informed her, three toasters and a Venusian hairdryer.

Nevertheless, a growing sense of foreboding threatened their idyllic afternoon, and as the gathering clouds finally let loose a deluge of Biblical proportions, an explosion rocked the crowded market square. In the blink of an eye Rose found herself thrown to the ground, breath forced from her lungs as she landed face first on the hard soil. Instinctively, the Doctor moved to shield her from the falling debris, and over the ringing in her ears, and the aching in her bones, she heard his urgent voice asking if she was okay.

_No danger. No running. No invasions._

Yeah, right. Those Space Slugs were looking better by the minute.

A quick scan with the sonic detected nothing worse than a few cuts and bruises from the jolting impact, and so amidst the flying feathers and confused squawking of the terrified population, the duo set forth to do what they did best. Investigate.

It didn’t take long.

Basic first aid skills were better than nothing in a situation such as this, and as the Doctor availed himself to the town’s leaders Rose busied herself with sticking plasters and sterile wipes. Twenty minutes later she’d learned of a radical religious faction spreading discourse throughout the entire planet, the inhabitants of which they’d accused of worshipping a false idol. In fact, she was just putting the finishing touches on a makeshift bandage when news filtered through of the arrest of an off-worlder—an off-worlder who by all accounts had two hearts, a blue box and a mouth as big as his ego.

And supposedly _she_ was the trouble magnet?

_Typical!_

This, of course, led directly to her current predicament. Evading capture. Soaked to the skin. Caked in mud, straw and god knows what else. No plan. No map, and no Doctor. Fan- _bloody_ -tastic. All the same, luck appeared to be on her side, and breaking _in_ to the detention facility had proved remarkably easy. Breaking _out_ , however, might be a problem. The doors opened by means of a keypad, and without the code she’d be left counting on the Doctor’s ingenuity—or at the very least a quick zap with the sonic screwdriver to ferry them both to freedom.

Raised voices and the clamour of heavy boots caused Rose to falter in her step, and warily she plastered herself against the wall, allowing the darkness to conceal her as a contingent of guards emerged from a nearby interrogation room. Holding her breath, she drew back into the shadows as they advanced down the corridor. Finally, the guards disappeared around the corner—their disgruntled mutterings about _uncooperative prisoners_ and _potassium rich fruit_ music to Rose’s ears—and seeing no other option she darted from her hiding place, barely making it through the door before it closed with a decisive _click._

The air inside the holding cell was stale, and a chill seeped throughout her bones as she turned to survey the murky chamber. A solitary window high above her head provided the only source of daylight, and as Rose’s eyes slowly adjusted to her surroundings, she noticed the lone figure seated beside a stout wooden table. Someone had placed a hood over his head, but Rose was so attuned to the Doctor’s presence she could identify him in a heartbeat… or _two_ , as the case may be.

“And you have the nerve to call _me_ jeopardy friendly?” she laughed, and the Doctor stiffened, turning to follow the sound of her voice. Rose breathed a sigh of relief that ostensibly he appeared unharmed, and smiling, she knelt down beside him, scrutinising the leather straps that bound his wrists to the chair. “What’s all this then? Someone finally found a way to shut you up? ‘cause I gotta tell ya, Doctor, the next time you suggest a holiday I might just tie you up _myself._ Believe me, it’d be a whole lot easier in the long run.”

His indignant response was muffled by the heavy cloth covering his face, but with one final tug he was free, his hands scrabbling to tear the material away just as Rose’s heart clenched within her chest. The incredulous gaze staring back at her wasn’t that of the man she’d come to find, and as her blood pounded in her ears and the darkness closed in around her, Rose felt herself drowning in the steel blue eyes of a dead man.


	2. Chapter 2

Oh, this was bad. Very, very bad. _Gingerbread houses,_ he’d told her once—and if 1987 was merely the Isle of Wight, then where the hell were they now? Rose had no idea at which point the Doctor was in his personal time line. Clearly he knew her—that much was evident by the shock etched all over his features—and now one false move, one word out of place, and time could unravel around her. Everything would change, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do to stop it.

Her Doctor wouldn’t know until it was too late. _Her Doctor_ —bloody hell, if she screwed this up he might never come to exist…

“ _Idiot!_ ”

“I’m making an effort not to be insulted.”

“Not _you_ ,” Rose whispered, her face buried in her hands, “ _Me_. This is my fault. I should have listened—”

The Doctor scoffed and moved to stand before her. “Rose Tyler. Since when have you _ever_ done as you’re told?”

“Oi!” Rude and not ginger. Some things never changed. Rose’s heart thundered within her chest, and she had a sneaky suspicion that somehow she’d forgotten to breathe. This was too much. She couldn’t… he couldn’t—

“Hey! Easy now.” Rose’s knees buckled beneath her, and she swayed perilously as the Doctor’s hands took a firm grip on her shoulders, urging her backwards into the chair. “Deep breaths… That’s it… Rose?” His voice was laced with concern. “Rose, look at me.”

“No…”

“ _Rose_ —”

“I can’t!” she cried. ”You—I shouldn’t be here. I’ve caused a paradox and I—”

“Not a paradox,” he muttered reassuringly, eyes taking in the subtle changes wrought by time. Shorter hair. Less make-up. Body toned from so much running. “Not yet anyway. Not until another me comes looking for you.” Gently, the Doctor skimmed his palms up Rose’s forearms, his fingers closing around her wrists. “You humans. Magpies, the lot of you! Swanning off whenever something shiny catches your eye.”

Rose bristled. “For your information—”

“No, don’t tell me. I must be going daft in me old age! Why ever would I bring you here now? Two of me in the same place is a bad idea. Makes it a vulnerable point in time.” He paused, eyes narrowing as Rose flinched before him. “But then, you already know that, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” she whispered, finally allowing him to prise the fingers away from her stricken face. “Been there, done that. Wasn’t expecting a repeat performance to be honest.” A small smile graced Rose’s lips as she took the opportunity to really look at him, memorising the beloved features that had faded in her memory over time. “You gonna ask for my key back?”

“Nah, you haven’t done anything wrong. The TARDIS normally avoids this sort of thing, but the damage she sustained in the war…”

The light in his eyes dimmed, and instinctively Rose reached out to give his hand a comforting squeeze. “But what about _my_ Doctor?” she asked, “I mean… he’s you, right? From your future? Shouldn’t he have remembered this happening when he was, well… _you_?”

_Damn those personal pronouns._

“Not necessarily.”

Already, there was a supernova sized headache forming behind Rose’s eyes.

“It’s possible I asked the TARDIS to remove the memories in order to preserve the Time Line.”

“You can do that?”

“I can do anything, me.”

“But… why?”

“Nobody should know too much about their own future,” he said, cocking his head to the side, “Time Lords included. Been travelling for centuries, me. It’s inevitable I run into myself now and again.”

Rose smirked. “Occupational hazard?”

“Sort of, yeah.”

“I suppose that explains why he— _you,_ didn’t say anything…”

“Could be.” The Doctor shrugged as he pulled Rose to her feet. “Speaking of, where is the other me? Can’t imagine I’d’ve let you wander too far.” No sooner had the words left his mouth did a piercing siren resound throughout the facility. “Never mind,” the Doctor said, smiling his best manic grin. “Think that’s our cue to leave.”

“And how’re we gonna do that without a key?”

“You don’t have one?”

“Nope.”

The grin turned into a frown. “Then how’d you get in?”

“Dumb luck, I imagine.”

“ _Fantastic!”_

The familiar exclamation brought tears to Rose’s eyes, and blinking them away, she watched him move around the room. There was nothing in the way of weapons, and the single window was far too small for a person to squeeze through. Maybe if they—

“Aha!” the Doctor exclaimed, returning to her side, his prize grasped tightly within his hand. Donning his reclaimed leather jacket he rifled through the breast pocket and pulled out the sonic screwdriver. “Lucky for us, this lot are a bit thick. Rule number one of effective jail protocol. Never leave the prisoner with the means for escape.”

“What’re you gonna do?” Rose asked, her tongue very much in cheek. “Resonate the concrete? _Loosen_ the bars?”

The Doctor’s face contorted in confusion, and he gave her that look that always made her feel like she’d dribbled on her shirt. ““What would be the point in that? Reattach barbed wire? No problem. Locked doors? Easy peasy. Fry an egg at fifty paces? Breakfast’s on me. But up against wood or concrete… nigh on useless.”

“Oh _really?_ ” Rose clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “ ‘s good to know.”

“And why’s that?” he muttered, determinedly flipping through the settings on the sonic.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

The Doctor’s eye’s narrowed as his calculating gaze fixed solely on her, and for a moment Rose worried that he was actually reading her mind. “Right then,” he said, in that brusque manor she’d missed so much, “enough wittering on, because if I know me…” He crossed over to the door and aimed the sonic at the security panel. “…and I’m afraid I do… then any moment now…”

A high pitched _drone_ sounded in the air just seconds before a series of blasts rocked the prison to its very foundations. It was déjà vu all over again, and Rose reacted on instinct as the Doctor clasped her hand in his, threw open the door, and tugged her unresisting body into the corridor beyond.

“Run!”

 

 

The rain was nothing more than a persistent drizzle by the time they reached the squalid back alleys of downtown Pullusia. The planet’s twin suns now skirted the horizon, obscuring their getaway in a shadowy caress of anonymity, and Rose’s breath was laboured, her pace slowing as they attempted to distance themselves from the chaotic scenes behind them. Whilst perfect for a day at the beach, the flirty little sandals on her feet weren’t doing her any favours now, and as she stumbled for the umpteenth time the Doctor veered to the left, drawing her into a side alley and stopping short beneath the artificial glow of a street lamp.

“You’re hurt,” he whispered, stepping forward as his calloused fingers traced gently over the two-inch cut at her hairline. It’d been too dark to see properly within the holding cell, but as his exploratory digits trailed over Rose’s cheeks the Doctor’s eyes darkened, his palms cupping her jaw, angling her face towards the warm amber light whilst he checked for any further damage.

“T-there was a bomb,” Rose muttered, eyes closing as she fought the urge to nuzzle into his hand. “At the marketplace… w-we were there and… a-and there was this explosion.”

The Doctor frowned, stepping back as he reached into his pocket and retrieved the sonic screwdriver, swiftly cycling to the setting for the dermal regenerator. “Let me fix that. Don’t want to leave a scar, do we?”

The device whirred to life, and Rose swallowed hard against the lump in her throat as his tender concern caused her heart to skip a beat. “I-it’s nothing. Really. ‘s just a scratch. I’ll—”… _live._

_Bloody hell._ She couldn’t do this. Not now. Not here. Fighting back tears, Rose glanced away, unable to meet his eyes as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re lying.”

Evidently that was the wrong thing to say, and the Doctor could only watch helplessly as Rose’s eye’s flashed with defiance, anger radiating from her body as she pivoted away from him, both arms wrapped around her stomach in an involuntary act of self-preservation. He really hoped she wasn’t about to slap him. Being struck by a companion’s mother was a big enough blow to the old ego; he didn’t want to drive the one remaining Tyler he actually _cared_ about to physical violence as well.

“There’s no use getting worked up,” he said, hoping to placate her but failing miserably. “Rose, it’s alright.”

“How?” she cried, spinning to face him. “How is _this_ alright? I’ve crossed my own time line! I might not be a bloody genius like you, but I know enough to realise that _this_ …” she gestured wildly between them, “is _bad_ … God, I never should’ve come here in the first place.”

“You didn’t know this would happen”

“Exactly!”

“—and from what you’ve said, neither did I… he…”

“You—”

“Nine hundred years of time and space, here. I might be getting on a bit but trust me, I’m far from senile. I would never intentionally risk a paradox, no matter what the circumstances, and if the other me didn’t mention meeting _this_ me the first time around, then I guarantee it was for a very good reason.” Gathering his nerve he moved to stand before her, one hand reaching up to pluck an errant piece of straw from her hair. “It’s like I told you,” he said, confidence returning as Rose raised her watery eyes to his. “The memories must’ve been removed. Hidden. Out of sight—”

“Out of mind?”

“Exactly.”

The Doctor grinned proudly as he watched her process this new information—considering all the angles before finally appearing to accept his explanation. That was new. The Rose Tyler before him wasn’t the naïve teenager he’d met in a department store basement. She’d changed, and if he was perfectly honest with himself he wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

This girl—no, _woman_ —was more confident of herself and her abilities, much more likely to question the complexities of his logic in a way her younger self never would. Oh, she’d always been fantastic—there was never any doubt about that—but deep down the Doctor always worried that the darkness residing within his soul would somehow rub off on his exceptional young companion, and seeing the evidence before him was somewhat disconcerting.

“This isn’t like before,” he said, gently taking Rose’s hands in his, both thumbs brushing over her knuckles in a soothing gesture. “There’s no wound in time. Nothing’s changed because it’s already happened—is _going_ to happen. I won’t remember any of this, so don’t go fussing that little ape brain of yours over nothing, alright? You can tell me anything, Rose. I promise no one will get hurt.”

_Except me,_ she thought glumly, heaving a deep sigh.

“We’re a part of event’s, you and me. The very fact that you’re standing in front of me, right here, right now, is proof enough that my part has already been played. You’re here from my future, Rose Tyler, something for which I am immensely grateful—and not just because of the jail-break back there. Genius, me. I’d’ve got myself out easily enough.”

Rose smiled. “Not the first time I’ve saved you though, is it?”

“No,” he said, “it isn’t. Probably won’t be the last either.”

The Doctor’s eyes softened and Rose caught herself leaning closer into the comfort of his body. For endless seconds they stood on that abandoned street corner, each wearing identical silly grins, until in a final moment of clarity the Doctor pulled back, allowing Rose to focus on the problem at hand.

“So, when is this for you? I mean…” Rose paused, glancing around as if expecting her younger-self to appear at any moment. “Where’m I?”

“Not here,” the Doctor replied curtly. “Left you back at the flats with your mum.”

_Bugger_.

The glare was back, and the Doctor grimaced as the curiosity in Rose’s voice was replaced by a tightly-reined anger. “What do you mean, _left?_ ”

“I’m going back!”

“Uh-huh. Do that often, do ya?”

“Excuse me?

“Leave?” Rose was unable to disguise the hurt in her voice. “Swan off?”

She knew she was being irrational. There was nothing she could do about it now, but just knowing that she was out there somewhere, _completely_ oblivious, whilst her Doctor risked his life on some alien planet caused a heavy weight to settle in her stomach. What if something bad happened? What if he’d got seriously hurt and regenerated? She’d had a hard enough time accepting him when he changed right in front of her eyes—how would she have reacted if some total stranger had rocked up at her door with a new haircut and a suit?

It didn’t bear thinking about, and Rose was grateful when a pair of strong hands grasped her shoulders, wrenching her away from such depressing thoughts. Invading her personal space, the Doctor dwarfed her smaller frame as he stooped to meet her eyes. His voice, when it finally came, was sympathetic, almost _apologetic._

“We just left 1987.”

“Oh…” Even after all this time, those memories were still too painful to think of. Still, she wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily, and feeling a bit more like her normal self she reached out and smacked his arm.

“Oi! Watch the leather!”

Rose smirked, her tongue peeking out the side of her mouth to tease him.

“What was that for?”

“I remember _that,_ ” she said, eyes narrowing into a mock glare. “I’d just come out the shower and mum said you’d gone to pick up tea.”

“I did! I am. This is just—”

“An excuse?”

“A detour,” he replied. “The TARDIS received a distress call on the psychic paper so I figured I’d kill two Droons with one stone. It was either that or brave your mum’s cooking,” An exaggerated shudder ran throughout the Doctor’s body, and Rose laughed at the look of unmitigated horror on his face. “A _proper sit-down_ , she called it. Can you imagine that? Me! A meal with your mother! Next she’ll be inviting me round for Christmas dinner with those silly paper hats.”

“You’re asking for a slap, you.”

Her smile negated her words, and the Doctor merely shrugged in response. “My Rose’ll never know.”

“I _am_ your Rose.”

“Yes.” The Doctor swallowed thickly, and Rose’s gaze fell to his lips. “Yes, you are.” Heat pooled in her abdomen, and she was suddenly very aware that the only thing separating her from the scratchy wool of his green jumper was the thin cotton of her sun dress—the material of which was still drenched and clinging from the earlier downpour. He was close. So very close—the warmth from his body soothing her as the wind whistled around them, dragging at Rose’s hair before continuing on its merry dance. Her heart rate accelerated and her fingers ached to reach for him, to feel those rangy muscles against her as she—

“Off we go then. Sooner I get you back to your TARDIS the better.” With a wide grin the Doctor took her hand and began to lead her out of the alley. “You can give my future-self an ear-bashing once you’re safe and sound. But for now,” he said, side-stepping a particularly deep puddle, “I think I’m owed an explanation, don’t you? So come on. How’d it happen? How’d we get separated?”

Now _that_ was a loaded question, and Rose stumbled as stone cold fear rushed through her veins. Here she was, losing herself to nostalgia and _completely_ inappropriate fantasies, and _her_ Doctor was still out there. Had he been the one to trigger the distraction at the prison? Knowing him? More than likely. But if so, where was he now? Was he safe? Was he hurt? What if—

A firm grip caught her by the waist as she started to shake, concerned eyes burning deep into her soul.

“Rose? What is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I have,” she choked out, her words indistinguishable as she buried her face against his chest. The familiar scent was a comfort, and Rose nuzzled against the Doctor’s jumper as he rested his chin atop her head, one hand stroking through her hair as she sought the security of his embrace. “My Doctor… he—I can’t believe I almost forgot… he’s still…”

“He’s fine…” The Doctor tapped his forehead, and Rose forced down her rising panic, breathing a sigh of relief as she realised what he was referring to.

“You can sense him? You’re sure?”

“Of course.” he replied. “Powerful telepath, me. It was muted before. No substance. But ever since we broke out of that facility the other-me’s presence has been growing stronger.”

Rose frowned. “Why is that, d’ya reckon?”

“Who knows. Might be a dampener. Might be I’ve got shields up. Could be any number of things. No doubt we’ll figure it out before all’s said and done. Here…” The Doctor shrugged out of his leather jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders, guiding her arms into the over-sized sleeves. “…put this on before you freeze to death. Honestly, you apes. How you lot cope with such inefficient regulatory systems I’ll never know.”

Her emotions on overload, Rose stood dumbfounded as he proceeded to button the jacket, and overcome by a myriad of forgotten memories she smiled up at him, a look of wonderment filling her eyes. He was really here. Alive and whole. Her Doctor. The man—the _alien_ , she’d first fallen in love with. And as her hands slid to his shoulders, his blue eyes darkening at the knowledge of her intentions, Rose closed the gap between them and brushed his lips in a kiss so gentle, so ephemeral, that the Doctor could almost have thought it a dream.


	3. Chapter 3

For one heart-stopping moment the Doctor froze, his lips unresponsive, muscles tense, hands fisted at his sides, and Rose had the distinct impression that she’d just made a monumental mistake. What was she doing? Bloody hell, what was she _thinking?_ They couldn’t do this. Not here, and certainly not now. Maybe she could play it off as a _thank you?_ Act casual. Swallow her pride. Smile that big toothy grin guaranteed to make him melt and walk away with her dignity intact.

Clearly he’d been surprised by her actions, but as Rose’s palms flattened against the Doctor’s chest, a soft groan rumbled from his throat, his hands rising to cup her face as he returned the kiss. Hesitantly, Rose’s grip returned to his shoulders, her eyes fluttering shut as his fingers tangled in her hair, guiding their movements, but still he held firm, unwilling–or perhaps unable to let go completely. Like a whisper, his thumbs caressed her cheeks, and needing more, Rose nipped at his bottom lip, breaking his composure as she drew a feral growl from the Time Lord in her arms.

Like a sprung coil he was upon her—his free hand gliding down Rose’s spine, arching her body towards him whilst simultaneously backing her against the coarse stonework of the alley wall. His work-roughened palm skimmed up her thigh, skating beneath her dress as he kissed her like a starving man—kissed her with such passion and desperation that Rose pushed aside the guilt and worry that her absence was causing his future-self, and lost herself in the frenzied onslaught of her first Doctor’s embrace.

She’d barely gotten to know these lips in their short time together. Countless months spent wishing, dreaming, engaged in a futile game of cat and mouse—both wanting, but neither brave enough to jeopardise their relationship by taking that final leap into the unknown. It had taken Jack’s arrival on board the TARDIS to turn Rose’s fantasies into a reality—the combination of the Doctor’s jealousy and the ex-Time Agent’s shameless flirting enough to shatter both their weakened defences.

For endless hours he’d dipped and twirled her around the Console room—the Doctor’s bold, possessive actions leaving the Captain in no doubt of where he stood. Even now, Rose was unable to recall who’d moved first, but in the next glorious moment she was being kissed like never before, her heart racing, knees trembling, as strong capable hands raised her up, the Doctor’s body bracing hers against a coral strut as her legs wound around his waist and the tension between them blazed to it’s inevitable conclusion.

Nevertheless, time waits for no man— _Time_ Lord or otherwise—and as fate would have it theirs was quickly running out. Life became a blur after that, and before she knew it Rose was waking up aboard the TARDIS, the Daleks gone, her memories hazy, and the man she loved lost to the maelstrom of regeneration.

New face.

New, new Doctor.

Same hearts beating just for her.

The heat was rising within her body, and Rose’s fingers clutched at his jumper, her breathing laboured at the memory of their first incredible night together. “Doctor…” she sighed, her voice whisper soft, but evidently enough to gain her partner’s attention.

Blue eyes gleaming, the Doctor broke the kiss, pulling back to search her gaze for some clue, some mere _hint_ of what she was thinking. “Rose Tyler.” Her name was a dark promise on his lips. “That was… _new_.”

The enigmatic smile and pink blush that stained Rose’s cheeks were answer enough, and as his oh-so-clever brain caught up with this staggering realisation, the Doctor couldn’t help the matching grin that lit up his features.

“ _Not_ new?”

Rose giggled, shaking her head at the absurdity of the situation. “Not new… just… different,”

The Doctor frowned. “Good different or bad different?”

“Just different,” Rose replied, the sense of déjà vu overwhelming. “And the same. It’s—“

She was cut off by another kiss, soft, lingering, and full of everything the Doctor couldn’t yet put into words. “Fantastic.”

Trembling, his hands slid to Rose’s waist, caressing her lithe form through the leather of his jacket. He’d heard that human males found the sight of women draped in _their_ clothing to be particularly arousing. Until now the Doctor had always dismissed it as a primitive throw back—a crass display of marking ones territory—but now, Rassilon, _now_ …

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you?” he asked, leaning down to press a kiss to Rose’s collar-bone. “How long I’ve _craved_ you?” Inhaling deeply, the Doctor nipped at the tender column of her neck, marking the pale skin as the combined aroma of human arousal and his own musky scent assaulted his olfactory system. “Dreams, Rose Tyler. Fantasies. Genius, me. So many questions inside my head—so many answers just waiting to be discovered. How you'd feel. How you'd _taste_. How that sweet little voice would sound whispering my name… begging for more… whimpering for me to touch you—just like you're doing right here, right now. Do you want that, Rose? Do you want to find out?”

“Oh god.”

The Doctor chuckled. “Praising the wrong man, sweetheart.”

“Wanker.”

“No denying that,” he muttered, and Rose almost groaned at the mental image _that_ thought evoked. “Forbidden fruit, you are. Untouchable. Unobtainable.”

“No!”

“No?”

Rose shivered as he pressed against her, the solid evidence of his arousal grinding roughly against her hip. “Not—n-not… Oh, Doctor, I want…”

“Tell me, Rose. Let me hear you say it.”

“ _Please_ …”

“Please what?”

“He’s you!” she cried, near delirious in the face of such delicious torment. “And you’re him… And I… I’m y-yours. Your Rose…”

“My Rose,” he whispered.

“Always… _always_.” Whatever was left of the Doctor’s self-control shattered as Rose reached up, her fingers twining around the back of his neck before tugging him down into a kiss so passionate he almost stumbled, forcing her against the brickwork with a muffled cry.

“Minx,” he growled.

“You have _no_ idea.”

Rose pulled back, lungs burning, desperate for air as a worrying thought occurred to her. Sure, this was nothing new on her part, but the last thing she wanted was to hurt her Doctor—either of them—and there was one more thing she needed to know.

“It’s not wrong if you’re the same man, yeah?”

“Bit silly to be jealous of myself, don’t you think?” Unerringly, Rose’s lips found his neck, trailing a fiery path towards the Doctor’s ear. “Time Lord, here. Beyond all that possessive nonsense, me. Although,” he gasped, as Rose nipped at the fleshy lobe in retaliation, “since we’re being honest, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like more of a stupid ape.”

Rose shivered in anticipation as the Doctor’s hands slipped between them, making short work of the jacket’s buttons before sliding inside to settle on her hips. She could easily give him a few examples of his _ape-like_ possessiveness over the years, but the words died on her lips as the Doctor’s fingers took to massaging her waist, teasing in slow, even circles before slipping around her back and settling just above the curve of her arse. “Mmmm…” she moaned, “And why’s that?”

“I thought…”

“What?”

One hand smoothed up Rose’s side, coasting over the outside swell of her breast. “I thought you wouldn’t want this…” he muttered. “Not from me, anyway.”

His companion smiled. “This is me, Doctor, wanting you.”

“I’m an old man, Rose. Why would you…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Thought you’d slap me.”

“Well, you’d have thought wrong.” Rose backed up her words with a slow, drawn-out kiss, her hands falling to rest at the Doctor’s belt buckle. “But then,” she said, gifting him with that tongue-between-teeth grin he absolutely adored, “It wouldn’t be the first time, I suppose.”

“Oi!” Voice ringing with false indignation, the Doctor stepped back, folding his arms across his chest. “How many times do I have to tell you? Genius, here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So tell me, Mr. Genius… why is it you’re standing _all_ the way over _there_?”

The Doctor paused, lips poised mid-response. “Good question.” Rose barely had the chance to draw breath before his hand was fisted in her hair, the other wrapping around her waist as he hauled her against him, seizing the opportunity to make a thorough exploration of her mouth. “Beautiful,” he whispered against her lips, and Rose moaned as his fingers cupped her backside, spreading out to draw her against his confined erection.

“I look like a drowned rat, most likely,” she said, glancing down self-consciously at her filthy outfit. “…probably smell like one too.”

“Well… now that you mention it…”

“Hey!”

“What? You said it, not me.” The Doctor flashed his most disarming grin, and the blonde couldn’t help but forgive him. “I didn't want to spoil the mood.”

“Hopeless, you are.”

Both hands returned to Rose’s hips, and she almost swooned as he dropped a gentle kiss to the healed skin on her forehead. “Bit out of practice, me.”

“You’ll get better.”

“You think so?”

“I _know_ so.”

That said, the Doctor resolved to show his pink and yellow—and currently sort of _brown_ —companion what nine hundred years of experience could achieve. Her eyes were wide, trusting him implicitly as he leaned in to steal another kiss, however before he could capture the sweetness of Rose’s lips their private sanctuary was disturbed by enraged shouts and the familiar, _thud, thud, thud,_ of running feet.

“That can’t be good,” he said, reluctantly releasing Rose from his arms. A familiar presence registered within his mind, and the Doctor sighed heavily as he turned towards the rapidly approaching footsteps. “Say hello to that paradox, Rose Tyler. Looks like I’ve I’ve found—”   
The Doctor stopped short as a Rose-shaped blur flew past him, tearing down the alley towards his future-self who—wait. _What?_

Tall. Skinny. Pinstripes. A tie! _Again?_ The suit wasn’t too bad he supposed—better than some multi-coloured ensembles the Doctor would prefer to forget. And at least he wasn’t wearing a vegetable this time around. That had to be a good sign, surely? Bright smile. Dark, soulful eyes. Handsome—if you liked that sort of thing—but was all that hair _really_ necessary?

_Better with two,_ she’d told him in that Utah sub-basement, and the Doctor took a deep breath, consoling himself with the knowledge that Rose was still with him—that his brave, wonderful, little human had seen him through a regeneration and remained by his side.

_Still not ginger though_ , he thought with a smirk. _Shame, that._

A rasping groan escaped his throat, and leaning back against the wall, the Doctor barely resisted the urge to bang his head against the masonry. _Bugger all, he was a pretty boy._ Honestly, what had he become? He was destined to spend half his foreseeable future fighting Rose for grooming time in front of the bathroom mirror!

Speaking of…

“Doctor!” she cried, almost tripping in her haste to throw herself into his replacement’s arms, giggling in delight as he lifted her off her feet and the momentum of their collision sent them spinning in the street.

Alright. Maybe Time Lords weren’t above that whole jealousy thing after all. The familiarity of their embrace caused the Doctor’s hands to clench, and closing his eyes he attempted to shut out the joyous reunion before him. All the same, the continued advance of the angry mob echoed in his ears, once more forcing his attention back to Rose—Rose who was currently engaged in some rather heated and highly inappropriate public snogging.

Not that he had room to talk…

“Worrying about you is a full time job, Rose Tyler,” the hair-gelled git said, drawing her into another full-bodied hug.

“Could say the same for you,” she replied, her face nestled against his future-self’s shoulder, and the Doctor could only watch miserably as his counterpart breathed in her scent, a slight frown tugging at his lips before easing her away. In one sweeping movement he let his eyes drift down Rose’s body, finally noticing her flushed appearance and the leather jacket that swamped her petite frame. The Doctor could pinpoint the exact moment of realisation as the other man stiffened, and he folded his arms, assuming an unaffected pose as his next-self’s gaze was drawn inexorably towards his own.

“Oh…” Amused, he raised an eyebrow at his companion who smiled coyly, biting her bottom lip. “ _Oh!_ ” A scarlet blush warmed Rose’s cheeks, and the other grinned again as he sent him a jaunty wave. “Hello! What am I doing here?”

“Ask her,” the Doctor replied gruffly, withdrawing his sonic screwdriver as the clamour of raised voices drew ever nearer. He ran a quick scan for the location of the other TARDIS, and gathering his bearings, marched towards them. “If you two are done canoodling, you might notice we’ve got company… and I don’t think they want to invite us for tea and scones.”

“Ah, yes well…” His future-self sniffed, then rubbed at the back of his neck. “That might be my fault.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Oi!” Put out, he glanced towards Rose. “That was rude,” he said as she merely shrugged in response. “I thought I was the rude one?”

“You said it, _pretty boy_.”

“Whatever, big ears... Oh, and you’re welcome by the way.”

“For what?” the Doctor asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Rerouting the prison’s auxiliary power supply.”

“You knew _we_ were there?”

“You? No. But I was passing through and heard the Order had captured an important detainee—a possible subject for Pullus rehabilitation, no less—and let’s face it, no detainee could be more important than a real, live, last-of-his-kind, son of Gallifrey, so I figured I’d do the poor chap a favour.”

“By _blowing_ it up?”

“Make an impression—that’s what I always say…” The other man paused. "Well, that and never trust a cat in a nun’s wimple. Besides, I only set the controls to cause a blackout; the rest was down to them.”

The Doctor snorted. “Showing off, are we?”

“Oh, like you’d have done it any differently.”

“ _DOCTOR_!” Rose’s voice silenced their bickering as the two Time Lords turned to face her, each wearing an identical look of surprise. “Can you two maybe fight about this later? Hot as this might be, we’ve got bigger problems to worry about right now.”

“Hot?” the man beside him spluttered. “Rose, I hardly think—”

“TARDIS, now!” And with that she grasped both of them by the hand, the alley becoming nothing but a pleasant memory as all three sped towards the welcoming sight of the blue Police Box.


	4. Chapter 4

If the assorted hordes of Genghis Khan couldn’t make it through the TARDIS doors, then Rose figured they were relatively safe from the half dozen Pullusians currently hammering the wooden panels with their pitchforks. The Time Ship’s melodious hum changed in tone as if to welcome their unexpected visitor, and, hands resting on her knees, breathless from that last one hundred metre sprint, Rose watched in amusement as the two Time Lords eyed each other suspiciously from across the centre console.

“Here we are then,” her current Doctor said, arms spread wide to encompass the cavernous space. “Mi TARDIS es su TARDIS.” He gave his past-self a considering look, then crossed over to Rose, drawing her into his arms and resting his forehead against her own. "Are you okay?” he whispered, his duel meaning plain to see.

Rose smiled back at him. “Fine. Same old cuts and bruises from the market. What about you?”

“Oh, I’m always alright, you know me.”

“I do, yeah. That’s why I’m asking.”

Rose’s eyes narrowed, and the Doctor grinned, crossing over to the jump seat and propping his legs up on the console. The act earned him a glare from his previous-self, and Rose knocked his feet to the ground as she plonked down beside him.

“ _Investigate_ , you said. _Talk_ to the townsfolk. Not disappear and leave me there.”

“I didn’t _mean_ to!” he protested, scratching habitually at the back of his neck. “But sensitive bunch, that lot. I _may_ have insulted the high priestess and two of her cronies… well, three if you count the chicken.”

“Which chicken?”

“The golden chicken, of course!”

“Did I lose a few neural circuits this time round?” her first Doctor grumbled, and his counterpoint whirled to face him, one finger pointed at his chest.

“Oi! Respect your elders!” All this earned him was a scoff and an eye-roll, and so, resisting the urge to pout, he focused his attention back on Rose. “For some reason the native Pullusians hold the image of your planet’s favourite poultry in very high regard. No idea why. Doubt they’ve ever seen the genuine article. Anyway, I _might_ have mentioned that your mother has cremated a few Sunday roasts in her time and, _well_ … I had to beat a hasty retreat.”

Rose blinked. Slowly. “And what about you?” she asked, turning towards the other Doctor.

“Received a distress call from Nova-6 after leaving you at the flats,” he replied, folding his arms defensively, “Figured I could pick up some parts at the same time, but the old girl detoured to the Seventh moon of Pulluxis and refused to move. Barely step foot out the door and I’m being arrested for theft. Seems _someone_ …” he aimed a dark look at his future-self, “…stole a religious artefact and yours truly was the prime suspect.”

“Ah.” The other Doctor smirked as he removed a pale blue, spherical item from his jacket pocket. “You mean this thing?” He held it up to the muted glow of the Time Rotor, studying it quizzically before tossing it towards his previous-self. “In my defence the Order’s _holy relic_ is actually a telepathic dampener. Explains why I didn’t sense your presence when we first arrived.”

Rose stared. “Is that—”

“An egg, yes. Well, I say _egg_ , technically it’s a poly-resin cloaking mechanism with built-in extra-sensory suppressors... but _egg_ will do just fine.”

“And the guards?” Rose asked, watching her first Doctor examine the disarmed device.

“Nothing more than shape-shifting scavengers out for a profit. They’ve been brainwashing the Pullusians for months. Turning them against each other. Trying to start a civil war.” The Doctor paused as he nodded to the innocuous looking object. “This lot are too busy fighting over their _supposed_ origins they can’t see what’s going on under their very own beaks.”

 _Wait_.

Chicken.

Egg.

“Please, don’t tell me this whole stupid war is about—”

“Oh yes. Our poultry related friends are quite literally arguing over who came first.”

Rose groaned. “How eggs-traordinary.”

“Eggs-actly!” The Doctor turned towards his other-self who was rubbing his thumb over the engraving on the underside of the imitation egg, “Any thoughts?”

“Think someone needs to brush up on their biology,” he muttered, recognising the two words that had haunted him on recent adventures, and in that moment the Doctor realised that something else, something bigger—something linked to this _Bad Wolf_ — was responsible for bringing them all together.

“ _Smashing_...”

The Pinstriped Doctor chuckled, a wide grin blossoming on his face. “So then,” he said, cocking his head in Rose’s direction. “That’s both _me’s_ accounted for. Aside from a little breaking and entering I assume you’ve been busy… _reacquainting_ … with my former-self?”

Rose blushed, the corner of her mouth twitching as her gaze darted to the side. “So what if I have?” she said cheekily, moving to stand beside the other Doctor. “Not like it’s the first time is it?” Shrugging out of his jacket she handed it over. “I think this is yours.”

“Looks better on you,” he replied, taking it with a wan smile as his future-self moved towards the console in a subtle attempt to give them some privacy. The cool leather was saturated with Rose’s scent, and the Doctor couldn’t resist slipping his arms into the sleeves and surrounding himself with her essence. Centuries, he'd spent, repressing those urges deemed base and improper by his planet’s teachings, and now here he was, one—no, _two_ frantic snogs in a filthy alleyway, and he was reacting like some spotty-faced youth of two hundred.

Rose exhaled a shaky breath as the Doctor took her hand, his thumb rubbing absent circles over the ring that shone there. “You died,” she whispered, teeth worrying her bottom lip as he reached up to soothe the abused flesh. Rassilon, he wanted to kiss her—wanted to soothe that swollen lip with his own, but with the other-him mere meters away he just couldn't bring himself to act.

“Yeah,” he muttered instead. “Gathered as much… what with _pretty boy_ over there.”

“Oi!” A dishevelled head popped up from behind the centre console. “That’s twice you’ve called us pretty!” The TARDIS sent out a spray of sparks from the synchronic feedback circuit, and his future-self sucked his burnt fingers into his mouth. “Handsome, maybe. Sexy…”

Rose sighed, ignoring the continued rambling of the other Time Lord. “You could’ve told me about regeneration, you know? Included it in the grand tour or something.”

_“…Foxy! That, I’d definitely go with…”_

“Produced a Companions Handbook, maybe?”

_“…Rose? Would you say I’m pretty?”_

The Doctor smiled and reached for her other hand, entwining their fingers in the familiar gesture. “It’s called the TARDIS,” he intoned. “T-A-R-D-I-S. The inside’s bigger than the outside. Oh, and I’m just the mad man in a box who’s been known to change his face. Yeah, ‘cause that would’nt’ve sent you running.”

_“…and I’m quite fond of the hair. And the hands! My manly hairy hands…”_

Rose shrugged, eyes trained on her feet. “What about later? I told you I wasn’t going anywhere. Why didn’t you tell me then?”

Truthfully, he’d always assumed she’d be long gone by the time he pushed his luck _that_ far—either by choice or… no… the alternative didn’t bear considering. “Don’t usually run through bodies that fast,” he muttered, and she finally met his eyes. “I didn’t think—”

_“Rose?”_

“Does he ever shut up?”

“Not really.” Turning, she looked over her shoulder, and the Doctor felt a wave of gratitude towards his future-self for the opportune distraction. “Yes,” she told him, “you’re very pretty. Gorgeous, in fact.” Apparently satisfied, the other Time Lord smiled broadly before returning to his repairs, and shaking her head, Rose span back around. “I missed you,” she continued, releasing his hands only to pull him into a hug.

“This daft old face?”

“I _love_ this daft old face.”

“Even the ears?”

“ _Especially_ the ears.”

A lump formed in his throat, and the Doctor swallowed hard as he glanced over to the console, where his other-self was busy pretending not to listen. “What about Sir Talks-a-lot over there?”

“I love him too. He’s still you.”

“Oh, Rose…” The Doctor enfolded her in his embrace, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling the sweet trace of honeysuckle shampoo that lingered beneath the muck and grime of their most recent adventure. She felt so small—so fragile, and the need to protect her was overwhelming. The ship hummed in approval and the Doctor held her closer, Rose’s face against his lapel, her arms buried beneath his jacket. “My precious girl…” he whispered, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Tough,” Rose replied, her hold tightening around his waist. “You’re stuck with me.”

The Doctor wished he could remain in that moment forever, but as Rose’s words filled his hearts and mind with the hope he’d denied himself for so long, he felt a violent shiver course through her body. “We need to get you out of these clothes,” he said, eying the damp cotton as the distinctive _thud_ of a head hitting the underside of the centre console sounded behind him.

“I—what?”

“You’re cold,” the Doctor quickly amended, the tips of his ears turning a rather fetching shade of pink. “All that running around prison cells and back alleys’ll do you no good. Not with that primitive immune system of yours.”

His words garnered the full attention of his future-self, and the sound of scrambling feet preceded his swift appearance at his side. “I’m right,” he said, gingerly rubbing at the fresh bruise on his forehead as he used the sonic screwdriver to perform a quick medi-scan. “Accelerated respiratory rate. Slight drop in body temperature. Nothing to worry about, but you should go take a shower. Warm up a bit.”

“Change into something… ah… dry.”

Rose glanced between them, pointedly ignoring the raised brow and heated look from her pinstriped Doctor. “Alright then,” she said slowly, her gaze alighting on a pair of mercurial blue eyes, “…but only if you stay. Promise me you won’t go. Promise me you won’t leave without saying goodbye.”

The Doctor frowned. How could he tell her that saying _goodbye_ was the last thing he wanted to do? What he _wanted_ was to hold her, kiss her, take her in his arms and never let her go. What he _wanted_ was to show his desire for this beautiful, fearless, and utterly fantastic woman in the most primal and reverential of ways. So, _no_. Goodbye wasn't an option. Not now. Not ever.

“I promise I won’t leave. Not yet.”

“Make sure that you don’t.” Rose smiled, belying the tremor in her voice, and the two Doctors stood in awkward silence as she headed towards the ship’s interior, both pairs of eyes fixed firmly on the over-exaggerated sway of her hips. “And play nice!”

 

 

If there was any one trait that carried over with each incarnation, it was the Doctor’s habitual need to tinker. There was something undeniably therapeutic about the simple repetitiveness of wiping down transducer cells or reattaching wires, and so it was that after twenty minutes of shameless posturing—an exercise that both knew to be futile but engaged in regardless—the two Doctors found themselves sitting cross-legged on the TARDIS floor, the remains of a Hyperspectral scanner spread out between them, as they awaited the return of the woman who claimed all four of their hearts.

“Bit _domestic_ , this.”

A Northern brogue filled the air, and the brown-eyed Doctor looked up from his handful of cables to glare balefully at his other-self. “You started it,” he murmured around the sonic screwdriver clenched tightly between his teeth. “We’re the same man. _Well_ , technically. I must say this body’s natural charm and charisma far surpasses _any_ that came before it.”

“And modest too,” his previous-self replied, attention trained on the image-stabiliser in his hand. “Don’t know why Rose puts up with it…”

“Piffle!” The Doctor winced as he added the final touches to his biometric synthesiser. “And that’s another word I will _not_ be using again.” Carefully, he tossed the finished component onto the pile, then turned his full attention to the other man. “Besides, you _know_ why… she’s even _told_ you why. These ears might be smaller than _some_ I could mention, but I’m not deaf. Far from it.” He leaned back on his arms, a knowing smile curling his lips. “Do you know what your problem is?”

“ _Nope_ ,” the other Doctor replied distractedly, “but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“You’re afraid.”

“Rubbish.”

“You’re afraid of losing her. Afraid of tearing down those defences we’ve built up and letting Rose in—allowing her to see it all. Our past. Our future. The things we’ve done…” He raised an eyebrow at his other-self, “…the things we _want_ …”

The other Doctor frowned, his eyes shadowed in the ambient glow of the Time Rotor. “We’ll both lose her one day. You know that the same as me. Deluding yourself won’t alter two million years of human evolution, so why make it any harder than it has to be?”

A long silence stretched between them, and the Doctor cocked his head to the side as he studied his counterpart. “Do you honestly believe that losing Rose _tomorrow_ instead of seventy years from now would hurt any less?" he asked. "And don’t lie to me! I was you, remember? You’re the me who broke the rule in the first place.”

“Which rule?”

“ _The_ rule!”

“Well _that_ narrows it down…”

“Rose promised us forever, and if there’s one thing I believe in—just one thing, it’s her.”

Frustrated, his former-self slammed the image-stabiliser against the metal grating. “And a fat lot of good that’ll do! Rose’s _forever_ and ours will never be the same—no matter how much we might wish otherwise.”

“ _Perhaps_ … but that doesn’t change the fact that she _wants_ to be here. She’s special, our Rose. She _wants_ to spend the rest of her life aboard the TARDIS—with _us._ Not back on Earth. Not with some idiot boyfriend and a boring job.” The pinstriped Doctor shrugged nonchalantly, yet his tone, and more so his eyes, told a different story. “Come on!” he cried, stretching his legs out before him, “Do you really imagine Rose could be happy with a normal life? Beans on toast? Friday night visits to the local chip shop?”

A half-amused chuckle was his only response, and the Doctor turned his head ceiling-ward as his magnificent ship chimed her agreement. “Oh, _alright_ ,” he replied, knowing full well that his companion’s local was just as much _his_ local nowadays. “We both know Rose can’t last long without her chips. She needs her fried food, and I need her— _we_ need her. And yes, maybe that’s selfish, but for once in my lifetimes I’m allowed to be.”

“You’re in love with her?” his previous-self asked, blue eyes awash with wonder.

“And you’re not?” Stubbornly, he held the other man’s gaze, refusing to back down on a matter this important. “Maybe you’re not ready to admit it—and don’t give me _that_ look—Rassilon knows it took me long enough to finally say the words… but I remember how it felt to be you. You don’t think you deserve her, but _you’re_ the one who _fell_ for her. Me? I was _born_ loving her. I’ll die loving her. And you know what? She’s worth it. She’s worth—”

“—everything.”

“Oh yes.”

“Do _I_ ever get to tell her?”

The pinstriped Doctor sighed, reluctant to voice one of his biggest regrets from that life. “She knows,” he replied, caught in the unique situation of wanting to comfort himself. “She always knew.”

“But is that _enough_?”

His other-self’s response was pre-empted by the soft, approaching footsteps of the girl in question. Barefoot, she padded into the console room dressed in her favoured bedtime attire—comfortable jogging bottoms and a red tank top. Her make-up was minimal, her hair damp and piled high atop her head in a messy ponytail, and the Doctor stared, transfixed, at this more natural Rose Tyler before him.

“You stayed,” she whispered, stopping just inside the doorway, and the Doctor clambered to his feet, his leather jacket feeling suddenly restrictive as his hearts-rate soared to a thunderous allegro.

“Said I would, didn’t I?”

“Well, yeah…” Rose replied as he slowly stalked towards her, “…but left alone for thirty minutes I half expected you two to be off toppling Dictators or something. Let’s face it; you _both_ have a habit of wandering off...”

The other Doctor snorted. “So says the woman who found herself dangling from a barrage balloon.”

“ _Excuse me_?”

“Uh…” Rose blushed, leaning around her first Doctor to find the smirking Time Lord seated on the floor. “That hasn’t happened for him yet.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah...” She smiled at the chagrined expression on his face, then turned back to the man in front of her. “So when do you have to leave?” she asked, not quite able to hide the disappointment in her voice.

“Time Machine," he replied. "Not just a London Hopper, remember? I can return whenever I want and my Rose’ll be none the wiser.”

The blonde giggled. “Yeah, but with _your_ driving skills—”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Do I really need to bring up the whole twelve hours-twelve months thing again?”

“Oi!” Twin shouts of outrage echoed throughout the console room.

“Now who’s being rude?”

Rose grinned, her tongue snaking out to wet her bottom lip, and the Doctor knew for certain that he was doomed. Nine hundred years old and brought to his knees by one little earth girl. _Oh, how the mighty had fallen_.

“Thank you.” The words escaped his lips without conscious thought.

“For what?”

“ _Everything_.” Helpless, his arms encircled Rose’s waist as he drew her against him. “Everything you’ve done. Everything you’ve given me.” The Doctor squeezed her tighter, his breath cool at her ear. “Everything you’ve _yet_ to give. You saved me, Rose Tyler. Don’t ever stop.”

Speech suddenly became an issue, and Rose swallowed back tears as her hand came to rest at the back of her first Doctor’s neck, urging him to turn and face her. There were words—she _knew_ there were—but for whatever reason they wouldn’t pass the lump in her throat, and as Rose’s palms cupped the Doctor’s cheeks—her heart racing at the unveiled emotion held within his eyes—he closed the distance between them and sealed her mouth in a kiss borne of such sweet devotion that she wanted to cry.

Firm and persuasive, his tongue slid out to trace the seam of her lips, coaxing them apart before dipping inside to tangle with her own. Rose whimpered—her entire body thrumming as she arched forward in a desperate bid for more contact—until finally the Doctor pulled back, leaving her weak-kneed and clutching at his jacket for stability.

His eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them, and Rose couldn’t help smiling at his self-satisfied grin. “You think you’re so impressive.”

“I _am_ so impressive,” he said, sucking in a breath as Rose’s fingers snuck under his jumper, reaching out to stroke the soft skin of his belly. “Though I can see how you’d forget, travelling with _him_ …”

His words held no malice, and as Rose turned to locate the third person in the room, a second pair of hands settled on her waist, both thumbs caressing her hips in small, even circles.

“No, don’t mind me,” purred the voice of her brown-eyed Doctor. “Carry on with what you were doing…” His long, agile tongue skimmed over her collar-bone, and Rose moaned as he buried his face in her neck, nuzzling against the sensitive skin. “Banana body wash?”

The other man winked, leaning down to press a kiss against her shoulder. “Little tease,” he muttered, his hand blazing a trail up her side, ghosting the outside swell of her breast before coming to rest at the back of her neck. “You’re playing with fire, Rose Tyler.”

A hoarse chuckle rumbled beside her ear. “I think you’ll find our girl _wants_ to get burned.”

Their eyes met over the crown of Rose’s head, and a split-second of silent communication passed between the two men. “Is that right?” her first Doctor asked, one eyebrow raising as he toyed with the spaghetti string of her top, his free hand skimming the strip of exposed skin at her stomach.

The heated look in his eyes caused Rose to gasp, and the other’s grip tightened as she swayed unsteadily. “Don’t faint on us now, Tyler—”

“—we’re just getting started.”

“You can have anything,” the Doctor at her ear whispered, the solid presence against her back enough to keep her from falling. “Absolutely anything—”

“—or _everything_ ,” a Northern voice muttered against her skin, his erection pressed deliciously against her stomach.

“Everything?” Rose’s head was spinning, the constant back-and-forth enough to make her dizzy.

“I’ve been inside your mind,” her pinstriped Doctor whispered. “I’ve seen your fantasies, just as you’ve seen mine. I’m a possessive man, Rose Tyler, but if I’m to share you with anyone, who better than with myself?”

His other-self snorted. “Narcissist.”

“ _Experience is the teacher of all things..._ or so our pal Julius once said.”

“Julius?” Rose gasped, rather put out by the impromptu history lesson, “As in… Caesar?”

“Correctamundo!” The Doctor forgot his list of _never-to-be-repeated_ words as Rose’s hand stretched back to grasp his hip, pulling him closer. “Bloodthirsty chap, Caesar,” he continued, grinding the unmistakable evidence of his arousal against his companion’s backside. “Sure knew how to give a good speech, though.”

“ _I have lived long enough both in years and in accomplishments,_ ” her first Doctor intoned against her ear. “But you know me—”

“—always one for new experiences.”

“Expanding my horizons—”

“—extending my expertise.”

Rose moaned, her fingers fisting in the Doctor’s jumper. “Picture yourself as the Emperor type, do you?” she asked, and both men scoffed.

“I came—”

“I saw—”

“I _danced_?”

“Now _that_ , my brilliant little human is a _much_ better idea.”

“It’s your decision, Rose,” her first Doctor whispered. “Whatever you want.”

“Your wish is our command, remember?”

“I remember,” she muttered, feeling the man at her front flinch at the words so fresh in his memory, “…but _you_ won’t, and I… I don’t want you to forget.”

“Neither do I,” he said, reaching up to cup her cheek. “But you’ll remember this for the both of us. And one day…” He shared a pained look with his future-self, “…one day _soon_ I’ll be him, and I can unlock the memories for myself.”

Rose’s mouth opened, but no sound emerged as a pair of lips nipped and soothed the top of her spine, two hands slipping beneath the thin material of her top to rest on her stomach. Confidently, her pinstriped Doctor’s fingers traced a path towards her breasts, tickling and inciting as the other’s drifted around her navel in lazy circles—making her gasp, making her moan.

“I—I want…” A thumb eased inside her bra, brushing over her nipple as its nail tormented the tender peak to full arousal. “Oh god!” she groaned, trembling helplessly between them as the last of her reservations disappeared, surrendering fully to the intense onslaught of her Doctors’ focused attentions. “You. Both. _Now_!”


	5. Chapter 5

Evidently the TARDIS approved of that idea—something the Doctor planned to ruminate on when he _didn’t_ have an aching erection and a wanton companion writhing in his arms—for as the trio stumbled out of the Console Room, the first thing they saw was the deep blue panels of his bedroom door. Immediately, Rose found herself pressed against the woodwork, her first Doctor’s lips grazing her neck as the other’s dominated her mouth in a hungry kiss. His free hand snuck around to locate the release switch, and as all three tumbled backwards the Time Lords had never been more grateful for the over-sized bed awaiting them.

“I can smell your arousal, Rose Tyler,” a deep, Northern voice whispered, his gentle ministrations a stark contrast to the words of filth against her ear. “All those delicious pheromones you’re giving off… makes me want to rip these scraps of material away—bend you over that dresser… take you from behind...”

His other-self chuckled. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he muttered, nipping at Rose’s ear as his fingers dipped down to circle the TARDIS key resting between the swell of her breasts. “Never take this off, do you, love. Always there. Hidden. Teasing. Tempting us to find it—taste the salt of your skin—watch it bounce in the mirror as we—”

His words were silenced as Rose laced her fingers through his hair, tugging him down to claim his mouth as the blue-eyed Doctor pressed his chest against her back, his lips returning to her exposed throat, teeth nipping, biting—marking the supple flesh as she whimpered in pleasure. He’d been fighting his newly emerged hormones since that first kiss in the alley, and as Rose’s hand dropped to palm his erection through the restrictive denim of his jeans, the Doctor gasped at the initial contact.

“Amateur…” the other-him chuckled, nevertheless his laughter dissolved into a whimper as Rose arched against him, rotating her pelvis against the tented material covering his crotch.

“You were saying, _old man_?”

The response he got was garbled, and—the Doctor suspected—not particularly pleasant, however it was the desperate pleading in Rose’s eyes as she moved to face them that held his attention.

“Are you sure this is okay?”

“Oh yes,” his next incarnation said, reaching out to take her hand. “Clearly some of my memories are missing—or they will be. Depends on your perspective, I suppose. Meeting myself is always strange… surreal…”

“Sexy?”

“ _Sometimes_ … but as far as past encounters go, this one is _surprisingly simple_.”

Rose grinned impishly. “Done this before, have you?”

“Well, not _this_ exactly,” the other Doctor replied, offering his own hand in a mirroring gesture.

“Though there was that one time Eighth me met Fifth me on Florana…”

A blush blossomed on both their cheeks.

“ _Bloody mistletoe_.”

“ _Anyway_ , my previous-selves always seem so—”

Rose smirked. “Cocky?”

“Confrontational. But that’s beside the point. The TARDIS will sustain the paradox. As long as we’re inside, we’ll be safe.” He sucked in a deep breath. “You see, Rose…”

“Oh, here we go,” her other Doctor muttered, “The Oncoming Babble.”

“…People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually, from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint, it's more like a big ball of wibbly wobbly, timey wimey... stu—

His taste-buds were suddenly alive with spice and musk as his previous-self grasped him by his swirly tie, and kissed him into silence. The essence of time itself washed over his tongue, and Rose’s gasp was the perfect accompaniment to the masculine groans rising from his throat. Determined fingers tangled in his hair, jerking his head to angle the kiss, and just as his respiratory by-pass system threatened to kick in his other-self pulled away, looking both smug and amused.

“Thought that’d shut you up.”

Gaping—his hair adorably mussed—the Doctor stared at his counterpart for several seconds. “I… you… _what_?” Then, not to be outdone he reached for the other man, wiping away his grin as their lips sealed together, their tongues duelling back and forth as both battled for control of the kiss.

Rose groaned, squeezing her thighs together in a bid to create some much-needed friction, and a pinstriped arm snaked around her waist hauling her between them as the embrace came to a sudden gasping end. Her arse ground back against her Doctor’s erection, eliciting a deep moan as one hand flew to her hip, his other sliding down to massage her thigh before raising it up, encouraging her to wrap it around his predecessor’s waist.

Purposefully, she rocked against the other Doctor’s crotch, his eyelids fluttering as both nostrils flared at the wondrously complex scent of her growing excitement.

“Feel what you do to me?” he muttered, fingers teasing the waistband of her jogging bottoms. “Feel how much I want you? Need you?” Sharp teeth nipped at the back of her neck, and Rose shivered as cool digits slipped downwards, edging into her knickers to caress the smooth, bare skin beneath. “Feels like you need this too, Rose Tyler,” her first Doctor continued, a growl of approval rumbling beside her ear as he stroked the pooling moisture around her aching clit, rough calloused fingers barely dipping inside her entrance with each pass.

The sound of movement to her left caused Rose’s eyes to snap open as the other Doctor’s suit jacket was tossed unceremoniously towards the corner, a whimper passing her lips as the hand between her legs retreated, shortly followed by the dull _thud_ of leather tumbling to the floor. By unspoken agreement the two men rid themselves of their clothing, and Rose couldn’t help giggling at the spectacle they made—one, gloriously naked as he hopped up and down struggling to remove the last of his black socks, and the other, imprisoned in his shirt-come-straightjacket as he flailed around on the spot.

“Bet you’re regretting all those layers now, huh?”

Her first Doctor smirked, clearly enjoying the show as he propped his chin upon her shoulder. “Not just ogres, then?”

“I knew it was a bad idea letting you watch _Shrek_.” She brought her hands up, resting them atop the Doctor’s arms where they criss-crossed her waist, and the nine hundred year old garden vegetable turned to them in defeat.

“ _Rose_ ,” he whined, lips forming a full-blown pout. “A little help?”

Taking pity, she stepped towards him, flicking the buttons at the Doctor’s wrists and releasing him from his cotton prison. His shirt fell to the ground, and Rose’s pyjamas soon joined them as both men turned to her with predatory grins, working in tandem to rid her of everything but her underwear.

“On the bed,” her blue-eyed Doctor hissed, scooping her up and carrying her the short distance across the room, before lowering her to the mattress. Unapologetically, he drank in every line and curve as he eased Rose’s head against the pillows, and together, the two men set about worshipping her body, raining kisses on her skin, hands never ceasing in an endless pursuit of new places to touch and tease.

The vast viewing screen that comprised much of the ceiling was now projecting an image of the Orpheus Constellation, and Rose felt like she was floating as her bra was removed, a cool mouth latching on to her aching nipple and bringing her some small measure of relief. It wasn’t enough though—never enough—and as the other’s tongue swirled around her collar-bone, moving down to lathe at the soft swell of her breasts, Rose’s back arched, her hands reaching out to clutch at the midnight-blue sheets beneath her.

“Oh god…”

“You like that?” her first Doctor asked as his other-self peppered kisses across her sternum.

“R-right oral fixation, this one.”

Rose gasped as the man in question moved up to reclaim her mouth. “Six million taste-buds,” he whispered, nipping at her bottom lip. “Not like the measly ten thousand you lot get by with. All that curiosity—that _thirst_ for knowledge, and you, my brilliant little human, get to be the one I focus it on.”

Ripe with invitation, he leaned down to suckle at her breast, and the Doctor watched spellbound as those slender fingers entwined with his own, the other man guiding their joined palms towards the apex of Rose’s thighs.

“Touch her,” his future-self urged, releasing his hold to move further up the bed. He settled against the wrought iron head board, guiding Rose to lie back against his chest. “Beautiful, isn’t she?”

Nodding dumbly, the Doctor licked his lips as the other man moulded Rose’s breasts, delighting in her gasped, “please,” as his hand came to rest upon the damp crotch of her underwear.

“Wanted you for so long,” he muttered, thumb brushing back and forth over her clit through the thin material. Trembling, his other hand trailed over Rose’s body, revelling in the opportunity to unlock her secrets—discover this amazing, sensuous creature for the first time. “And now that I’ve got you… what am I going to _do_ with you?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she replied, as he eased the sodden knickers down over her thighs. “You're the genius—or so you keep saying… I'm sure you'll think of something.”

A husky groan tumbled from his lips, and the Doctor leaned down to press a kiss to her stomach. “Are you doubting our mental prowess, Rose Tyler?”

“Our increased intellect?”

“Our unparalleled understanding?”

“Our brilliant… brilliance?”

“Who, me? _Never_ …”

“Not convinced.”

“Me either,” her brown-eyed Doctor muttered against her neck, “I think she needs… _persuading_.”

“Is that, right, Rose?” The other smoothed his palms up her calves, tickling the backs of her knees before moving up to spread her legs wide open, hiding nothing from his covetous gaze. Settling on his stomach, the Doctor pressed a series of tender kisses to Rose’s inner-thigh, his short hair tickling the sensitive skin as his fingers settled on her hips, holding her steady. “What will it take? Tell me how you can be… swayed.”

“Touch me…”

“We are touching you,” the voice at her ear whispered, fingers combing through the spun silk of her hair.

“That’s not what I meant and you _know_ it!”

Blue eyes glinted with mischief. “Demanding little thing, isn’t she?”

“Please…”

“She’s just warming up.”

“ _DOCTOR_!” Her thighs slick with desire, Rose almost sobbed as his nose nudged against her clit.

“What do you think?” he asked the other man, ignoring the glare Rose levelled at him. “Reckon she’s waited long enough?”

“ _Well_ , I do love to hear her beg, but I suppose we’ve time enough for that.”

“Speak for yourself,” he muttered under his breath, ducking down to swipe his tongue along her glistening slit, grunting his pleasure against Rose’s flesh as he nibbled and sucked at her outer folds.

“Just like Ulanda fruit,” his next-self said, eyes trained on the sight before him. “Sweet, juicy… tart—”

“Oi! Who you calling a tart!”

“Decadent…” He silenced her with a kiss, and Rose gasped against his mouth as a long finger pushed inside her entrance, cool lips closing over her clit as an agile tongue circled the swollen nub. “Delicious…” A second digit stretched her tight muscles, and then, more cautiously, a third. “Delectable…” Her climax fast approaching, Rose clenched around the other Doctor’s fingers, her eyes falling shut as she arched against his mouth.

“Watch him,” the man at her back ordered, his own hand fisting around his cock as he stroked his length slowly. “Watch what he’s doing to you. How it affects him.” Rose’s eyelids fluttered open, her hips bucking franticly within the other Doctor’s grasp. “See how _hard_ he is at just the taste of you. How much he wants you… Tell him, Rose. Tell him what you want.”

“More!” she cried, snaking a hand back to squeeze her Doctor’s thighs, delicate fingers grazing his balls as he worked himself faster. His whispered promises of pleasures yet to come set fire to Rose’s blood, and she writhed between her two Time Lords, plucking at her pebbled nipples—rolling, pinching—gasping as the cool splash of the Doctor’s seed hit her back, his arms tightening around her waist, anchoring her through the tempest of her own personal release.

Seconds, minutes, possibly hours later, Rose blinked her weary eyes open. Disorientated, she inhaled sharply, and as the world finally swam into focus she glanced down into the awestruck eyes of her first Doctor.

“Did the universe implode?”

“Sort of,” he said, wet digits trailing up and over her stomach, “I am rather fantastic—”

“—stands to reason that two of me would be positively mind-blowing.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “You’re so _vain_.”

“I bet you think this song is about you.”

“Huh?”

“Unbelievable,” muttered the man behind her. “Can quote Caesar, but knows nothing about Carly Simon…”

“ _Humans_!”

“Oi!”

The Doctor’s tongue followed the path of his fingers, painting invisible words of possession as he lapped the honeyed ambrosia from her skin. Like a sleek jungle cat he prowled up Rose’s body, spreading the remnants of her arousal across her bottom lip before leaning in to cover her mouth in a searing kiss. A hand closed around his wrist, guiding it upwards as the other man licked away the last traces of the musky residue, and the Doctor’s eyes widened as the slimmer fingers of his future-self wrapped around his painful erection.

Oh, Freud would have a field day with this one.

The sight of his predecessor’s cock—red, swollen, slippery with pre-come—caused an immediate stirring in the current Doctor’s loins. With a swift, even pace he stroked the smooth column of flesh, squeezing, twisting, brushing his thumb over the swollen head in the way he remembered always drove him to the brink. A ragged groan tore from his previous-self’s lips, and Rose broke the kiss, placing her hands on his shoulders as she gently pushed him back onto the bed.

Leisurely, she crawled down his prone body, a strangled sob filling the air as she closed her heavenly mouth around his cock. Sweat beaded down Rose’s neck, and the Doctor couldn’t resist running his tongue along her spine, thrilling at the garbled moan that rumbled in her throat, causing the other-him to buck beneath her.

“Rose!” his previous-self cried, fingers tangling in her hair. “I—Oh, Rassilon, so hot…so wet…”

The Doctor moved further up the bed, his palms massaging the other’s balls as he leaned in to kiss him, savouring the second-hand flavour of his companion’s arousal as he swiped his tongue across the roof of his mouth.

Chest heaving, his former-self groaned as Rose began swallowing around his length, and soon he was panting, writhing—babbling nonsense about how good it felt, how _bloody fantastic_ she was, and how he was never going to let her go. “Rose,” he muttered again, unable to fight the instinctive rocking of his hips, “Rose, I can’t… You have to…”

“Let go,” the Doctor whispered. “We’re here. We’ve got you. Let go.”

His previous-self watched with a hooded gaze as Rose’s breath caressed his straining erection. Groaning throatily, his eyes rolled back as she pressed a kiss to the glistening tip before taking him in again, hollowing her cheeks as she worked him towards completion. Two more passes and the Doctor pressed his thumb against the other man’s perineum, massaging the tight muscles as he bellowed his release, emptying himself into Rose’s mouth as she swallowed eagerly around him.

Suns expanded and planets burned in the time it took for the Doctor to blink the proverbial stars from his eyes, but as the fog of desire receded and his consciousness rushed to the forefront, his hands clamped around Rose’s forearms, hauling her up into a frantic kiss.

“Wanted to come inside you,” he gasped, chasing the tang of his release with his tongue.

Rose grinned, extracting herself to kneel between the two Time Lords on the bed. “You will…” she said, reaching out to stroke their recently-spent erections, “…because if there’s one thing I’ve learned travelling with you two…” The Doctors’ nails dug into their palms, eyes clamped shut as she worked them evenly. “…it’s that superior biology and a duel cardio-vascular system…” Rose tightened her grip, squeezing their cool flesh with each slow glide, “…means _excellent_ recovery times, and— _mmm_ , there we go… _zero_ refractory period.”

Rose licked her lips, eyeing her handiwork as twin erections lay thick and heavy against her lovers’ stomachs, identical smirks tugging at the corner of their mouths as they levered themselves into a sitting position. The taste of one Doctor still lingered in her mouth, and Rose wanted nothing more than to combine it with that of the other’s. Nevertheless, before _that_ thought could reach fruition she found herself flipped onto her back, squealing in surprise as her first Doctor settled between her legs.

“Oh no you don’t,” he said, capturing her wrists in one hand and trapping them above her head. Bracing his weight with the other arm he leaned down to steal a gentle kiss, but faltered—suddenly unsure, as Rose’s legs wrapped snugly around his waist.

“Don’t be nervous,” his other-self whispered, palm stroking down his back as he released Rose’s hands and settled them on the pillow. “She wants this… she wants you. Always has, always will.”

Swallowing hard, the Doctor reached out to brush the sweat-dampened hair from Rose’s brow, untold emotion dancing in his eyes. He knew he was asking the impossible, but then he’d always been a selfish sod, and as the Doctor’s fingers curled beside Rose’s temple his hearts told a millennium’s worth of knowledge and reservations to take a flying leap.

“How long are you going to stay with us?” he asked, shifting his hips to align their lower bodies.

“Forever,” Rose replied, her certainty a balm to his jagged nerves, and the Doctor shuddered, his breath escaping in a harsh exhale as he slid forward, entering her in one, sure, stroke.

She was as slick and hot as he’d expected—as he’d imagined all those lonely nights when the longing had proved too much and he’d been forced to take himself in hand, fisting his cock until his come drenched the sheets and the pillows muffled his cries of release. Panting, his head dropped to Rose’s shoulder and she rocked upwards, encouraging him to move as she trailed a series of soft kisses towards his ear.

“I love you,” she whispered, fingers teasing the short hair at his nape. “I love you.”

“Rose…” There was no sweeter phrase to be heard, and every muscle in the Doctor’s body tightened as her words caused his hearts to skip a beat. “Rose, I—”

“Sshh, it’s okay. I _know_. You don’t have to say it, _I know_ …”

She bit down on his neck, internal muscles tightening around his length, and the Doctor thrust forward, growling hoarsely into the skin of Rose’s neck. Each plunge into her body was a baptism of fire, the exquisite torture of each slow withdrawal driving him out of his mind as it cleansed his soul with the benevolence of this incredible gift.

“That’s cheating, Rose Tyler,” he muttered, pulling back before surging forward again, burying himself to the hilt. “You already know what I—Oh, Gods, like that… just like that…”

Rose smiled, fingernails raking down the sinewy muscles of the Doctor’s back as she arched beneath him. “I had no complaints the first time.”

“This _is_ the first time,” the Doctor replied as his next-self lay down beside them, a confident smirk plastered across his lips.

“Wibbly wobbly—”

“—Timey wimey,” he finished, rolling his eyes as his hips took up the rhythm as old as time itself.

Keening in his arms, Rose whimpered as she reached to the side, blindly searching for his future-self. “More,” she moaned. “Doctor, please…”

“I’m here, love,” his counterpart whispered, swallowing her entreaties in a ravenous kiss. “Whatever you want. Whatever you need, just say it. We’re yours.”

“Mine… My Doctors…”

“Yes! Yes, Rose. _Your_ Doctors.”

“ _Always_ your Doctors.”

Rose’s heart thundered within her chest, slender fingers tweaking her puckered nipples as a cool hand travelled down her thigh, teasing, stroking, gathering the copious fluids and encircling the other man’s cock each time he pulled back. “Both,” she whimpered, forcing a growl from the other’s throat as her fingers tugged at his hair, no doubt pulling a few out by the roots.

“Together?”

“Sure you can handle that?”

Be it raw hunger or pure bravado, Rose had no idea, but either way she found herself nodding as the Doctor wrapped his arms around her waist, the other guiding them as they rolled to the side and he positioned himself behind her. His chest was cool against her back, and lost in the musky scent of her lovers Rose moaned, quivering with desire as her Doctor’s slippery fingers trailed down her spine, using her own juices to ready her as he massaged the tight ring of muscles at her other opening.

“Our Rose has been handling _us_ for years now,” he said, carefully easing a finger inside her. “Why would this be any different?” He dropped a kiss to her shoulder as his other hand held her steady at the waist, a second digit joining the first as he worked them up to the knuckle. “You want this?”

“Right here, right now?” the man at her front whispered, resuming his leisurely thrusts.

“Your Doctors, inside you. Making you whimper and scream as you tremble between us?”

“And you will scream for us, won’t you, Rose Tyler?”

“That sweet little voice begging for more as we push your body further than it’s ever been before?”

“Screaming our name as you fall apart in our arms. Is that what you want, Rose?”

“Just say the words, sweetheart, and it’s yours.”

“Oh god,” Rose whimpered, squirming as her muscles stretched to accommodate a third finger. “Please…”

Her first Doctor cupped her cheek, kissing her deeply as his future-self removed his digits and reached back between Rose’s folds, using the evidence of her arousal to lubricate his aching cock. “Are you ready?” he asked as the other positioned his erection against her puckered entrance, and Rose nodded, burying her face in his chest as he filled her slowly from behind.

They’d done this before—not often—but enough that Rose thought she knew what to expect. She was wrong. The internal friction of their duel penetration was incredible, and the two men pressed kisses across her neck and shoulders, hands settling on her hips as they gradually introduced her to these remarkable new sensations.

“Relax, love,” the man behind her whispered, setting a languorous pace as he rocked against her, his left hand dropping to knead the tense muscles of her lower back just as the other man circled his thumb around her throbbing clit.

Safe within their arms—her soft curves sheltered by the hard contours of her Doctors’ bodies, Rose felt the pressure building as the slick sounds of their union filled the bedroom. Their fingers were everywhere at once—too much, yet not enough—and as cool digits reached around to explore the place where they were joined flames ignited in Rose’s stomach, the pleasure coiling inside and out, enveloping her in its scorching embrace.

Craning her neck, she angled her face to kiss her brown-eyed Doctor, gasping into his mouth as each invasion and shadowing retreat drove her closer to completion. Nothing else mattered but this moment. Nothing else existed but the three of them.

Instinctively two sets of fingers migrated to Rose’s temple, and the emotions conveyed through the telepathic connection were staggering. Nobody would ever know this incredible little human in the way they knew her now, and as the golden nimbus of Rose’s pre-existing bond with his future-self damn near blinded him, the blue-eyed Doctor froze as their personal Time Lines merged, twisting together in a fleeting dance before continuing on, inextricably entwined as they stretched out before him. Unbroken. Unending. Eternal.

_Impossible_. The thought echoed inside his head, and yet—

“Tell me again,” he gasped, eyes flying open to meet the other man’s knowing-gaze.

“I—I love you,” Rose whispered breathlessly, choking on her words as they lost their even rhythm, both men thrusting erratically as her moans of ecstasy rang in their ears and the primal need to control her body overtook them.

“How long!” he demanded.

“ _Forever_... forever… for— _Oh God!_ Doctor!”

Liquid fire raced through Rose’s veins, waves of sensation ricocheting between them as both Doctors cried out helplessly, their cool seed quenching the raging inferno as they clung together, one mind racing, five hearts beating as one, drowning in a sea of desire.


	6. Chapter 6

Later— _much_ later—the blue-eyed Doctor lay immersed in the joyous afterglow of their frenzied love-making. The taste of his bed-fellows still mingled on his tongue, their steady breathing lulling his body into welcome lethargy. He knew he ought to leave—knew there were memories to hide, and a companion of his own to get back to—yet the thought of extracting himself from the tangle of limbs seemed like a Herculean effort, and one he had no intention of attempting any time soon.

Rose was asleep between them—her face buried against his future-self’s shoulder, arms thrown securely around both their waists—and smiling softly the Doctor took a moment to savour the events so fresh in his mind.

He’d told her that he wouldn’t leave, and judging by the blissful expression on Rose’s face the Doctor considered that promise well and truly fulfilled. Nevertheless, the slightly disjointed hum of the ship was a constant reminder that he didn’t belong here. He’d never been one for goodbyes—and there’d be ample opportunity to slip away afterwards—but for now he needed some answers. And who better to provide them than the Time Lord snoring softly from across the bed?

“How long?”

Startled, the other man blinked his eyes open, gathering his sensibilities as the bleary features of his previous-self swam into focus.. “How long, _what_?”

“Don’t be _thick_ ,” the Doctor whispered, loath to wake their exhausted companion. “How long has she been with us?”

“ _Oh_ , about eight years… give or take.”

“She's barely aged a day.”

“I know.”

“Well I _don’t_. So how ‘bout you narrow it down for me? Quit beating around the Schlenk Blossom and tell me what’s going on.”

Guilt flashed over the other man’s face, and sucking in a breath he angled his head to press a kiss to Rose’s hair. The answer lay in one word. “ _Daleks_.” And the sharp exhalation from his next-self caused the Doctor’s hearts to stutter in sympathy. “They had an invasion fleet,” he continued, carefully manoeuvring up the bed and earning a disgruntled moan from Rose as she was jostled against his chest. “Took over Satellite-Five—made an army out of the Human dead—insane the lot of them.”

“And Rose?”

“Safe. We sent her away—sent her home as soon as it all went pear-shaped.” A look of disgust crossed the other man’s features. “Interesting phrase, that. Pear-shaped. Why pears, I wonder? Horrible things—all soft and mushy... no shape at all really.”

“Let me know when you’re approaching the point, will you?” the Doctor muttered, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “Could do with another forty winks myself if you don’t—”

“We ran out of time,” the other said, silencing him with a mutinous glare. “Ironic though that might be. Die as a human, or live as a Dalek. Our only option was a Delta wave but it would’ve destroyed everything in its path. We sent the TARDIS back to Earth—told Rose to forget us and… _well_ …” he sighed, “…You know Rose Tyler.”

“That I do,” the Doctor agreed fondly. “Determined little ape, and then some. Let me guess—she found a way back?”

“Oh yes. And just so you know—not that you can avoid it of course—but for future reference… in the interest of self-preservation and all that—”

“Spit it out.”

The other Doctor’s gaze fell to their sleeping companion. “Jackie Tyler’s not the _only_ one with a mean right-hook.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.” Wincing from the phantom pain at his cheek, his future-self’s eyes slipped shut as the bittersweet memories washed over him. “The TARDIS helped her—opened up her heart. For one moment in time Rose Marion Tyler was the most important being in the Universe, and _all_ she cared about was keeping us safe. Can you believe that?”

“ _She’s_ the Bad Wolf.”

“How did you—”

The Doctor rapped his knuckles against his temple. “I saw it. Earlier, through the feedback loop. Those two words have haunted me. Little things—subtle hints here and there. Like the Order’s _precious_ egg for example. But the Time Lines are always distorted… like something doesn’t want me to see that far ahead.”

“Or _someone_. I think the TARDIS has developed an interfering streak in her old age.”

“Brought me here, didn’t she?”

“You complaining?”

“Gods, no,” the Doctor laughed. “Even if it is a bit _masturbatory_.”

Shaking his head, the other man reached out to stroke the slumbering girl’s hair. “Unbelievable,” he muttered. “You can’t say love, but _masturbatory_ just _rolls_ right off the tongue.”

“Oi! Watch it, _pretty boy_.”

“Make me, _big ears._ ” His namesake smiled as he traced his fingertips across Rose’s cheek. “She saved our life.”

“And then?”

“ _Then_ we saved hers. The power was killing her—so much knowledge contained within a primitive human mind… she was going to burn. You took it from her, absorbed the Vortex and poured it back into the TARDIS.”

“Don’t tell me,” the Doctor sighed, the pain of his imminent loss like a stab wound to the chest, “this is where you come in, right?” Delicately he skimmed his palm down Rose’s side, her body warming his hand through the thin cotton of the sheets. “At least it was a good death.”

“Sacrificing your life to save a companion? I’d say so. Can’t get any nobler than that.”

A frown tugged at his future-self’s lips, and regret coated his words as his mind returned to that fateful day.

“I thought I’d got it all—I thought she was fine, but the regeneration went badly. Just _bursting_ with Vortex energy, we were. Neuron implosions, Pilot fish—the works. Rose was scared; I was wearing a stranger’s pyjamas, and the Sycorax— _Oh_! You’ll _love_ that one. Save the world in a dressing gown, you will... ” He shook his head, unable to delay it any longer. “After we left London, Rose collapsed and I couldn’t—I was losing her… The TARDIS interfered—”

“Again?”

“Yeah,” his other-self confirmed, “Clearly she loves our girl as much as we do. I ran medi-scans—every test I could think of, but the results were conclusive. The damage is irreparable. Her cells have mutated, and Rose… her life-span’s increased exponentially.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that.”

“But—”

“I know. _Believe me, I know_. But it’s true. Those last stubborn remnants of Vortex energy have given us a future we never dared hope for, and I can’t bring myself to be sorry about that.”

The Doctor blinked, his hearts racing, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips as the blonde rolled over to her back. “And what about Rose?” he whispered, gaze travelling over her sleeping form. “Forever’s longer than it sounds. How’s she going to cope watching the people she loves wither and die?”

“I _don’t_ know,” the other man said, lowering his voice as a scowl clouded their lover’s face. “But whatever happens she’ll never be alone. We’ll never leave her. We’ll never abandon her. She’s ours, same as we’re hers. It’s easy to forget what loneliness feels like until you find someone that makes you whole. Nine hundred years, and we’ve never believed in destiny—all that soul-mate mumbo-jumbo—but Rose… she completes us.”

The Doctor smiled. “She does, doesn’t she?”

“ _She_ is _trying_ to _sleep_ ,” huffed the girl in question, cracking open her eyelids as she glanced irritably between them. And that’s not gonna happen with you two nattering on like a couple of old biddies.”

The Doctor raised his eyebrow in surprise. “Someone’s feeling feisty.”

Rose’s tongue flashed across her bottom lip. “Someone’s feeling _something_ , alright.” Eagerly, she snaked her hands beneath the covers, nimble fingers closing around their burgeoning erections. “Two very big _something’s_ , as a matter of fact.”

“Don’t start what you can’t finish, Tyler.”

“Why? Afraid you can’t keep up?”

His next-self leaned down to nip at Rose’s collarbone, and the flames of passion once more ignited between them as the Doctor’s hand found her breast, gently kneading the supple flesh until her body arched and her nipples stood stiff and wanting in the cool TARDIS air.

“Never underestimate the power of a horny Time Lord, Rose Tyler—”

“—because now, my miraculous little ape, we are going to make you scream.”

 

 

And they did.

_Repeatedly._


End file.
